Dusk gradually deepened, stars and moon faintly visible.
Snow fell at night; wine left people drunk and dazed.
The moon's clear radiance spilled across the courtyard, and the snow looked gentle. Cups and jugs lay scattered across the stone table, leftover wine dimly reflecting the moonlight and glittering with an ambiguous glow.
The moonlight itself held no ambiguity. The ambiguity lay in the sounds inside the house.
In the quietest corner of Celestial Pivot Divine Palace's cultivation grounds, green pines welcomed guests, immortal cranes mournfully circled home, cold plum blossoms stood proud against the snow, and moonlight outshone the frost.
Within the most ethereal, most otherworldly courtyard, the rhythm inside the room seemed strange—so strange it nearly tore apart the heavens above this immortal realm.
Who knew whether it desecrated the Sacred Land, or added another kind of scenery to this immortal realm.
If the stars and moon in the sky had spirits, if the Milky Way possessed awareness, they probably would not have known how to describe such a flavor... In truth, they did have spirits. They had done this themselves.
If there were any stargazers, they would have discovered that tonight's moon was especially strange, nearly meeting the Milky Way. Its clear radiance thus became gentle, while the eternally unchanging waters of the Milky Way seemed to flow slowly, singing a tender song.
Then they condensed into rain, turned into snowflakes, and covered the house, blocking the flickering firelight behind the windows.
Who knew how long passed before the wooden door creaked open, and Little Daoist Nun fled with her Daoist scarf in disarray, clutching her Daoist robe. After a while, a long-legged mature beauty in ordinary clothes furtively looked left and right, then vanished with a swish.
The sky gradually brightened, and the snow slowly weakened. Above